


Rude Awakening

by Sevondia



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Ed loves a femur, Established Relationship, Light-Hearted, M/M, Oswald is grumpy, ambiguous timing, ed is a nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 19:11:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14361822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevondia/pseuds/Sevondia
Summary: Oswald is awoken by Edward medically inspecting his leg.





	Rude Awakening

Oswald slowly awoke to a strange and out of place feeling, for Ed wasn’t by his side, but instead crouched over at the end of the bed. If he were to be on high alert, Oswald would have been out of bed by now at a sight like this, bearing his knife at the strange figure. Instead, however, he merely frowned through the dim light of the early morning, knowing clearly that the figure was Ed, his Ed, and not some intruder. He shuffled upwards and blinked the sleep out of his eyes, listening in confusion to the sound of pencil lead scratching against paper.

“Ed?” He asked, “What’re you doing?” His voice was slurred and thick with sleep. 

The other, unnerved by the awakening of his examinee, remained deep in concentration. “I’m looking at your leg,” he replied monotonously, seemingly absorbed in his studies as he ran his index finger down Oswald’s calf. He continued, “I’ve noticed recently that you’ve been relying more on your walking stick.”

“It’s a cane.”

“Right. And two mornings ago, you readjusted your seat at the dining table due to the table’s leg coming into contact with your own. You winced. Meaning, that it’s been causing you more pain than usual.” 

Oswald blinked, propping himself up on his elbows as he rubbed his hand across his face, working out the stiffness that the night had brought. “Uh, yeah, sure, right,” he replied, glancing sideways to glimpse at their alarm clock as he mourned Ed’s warmth. “But it’s six in the morning, can you come back to bed?”

Ed turned on his heels to look at him. Still dressed in his pyjamas, he held a small notepad in his hands, and his glasses were perched on the end of his nose. “You say it happened when Fish Mooney battered your legs with parts of a broken chair,” he paused. “It seems that she caused specific injury to your tibial plateau, as well as your femur,” he paused again, awaiting a response. When he didn’t get one, he continued, “Injury to this area, as well as impact damage to the fibula - in your case, a break - should in most cases require metal reconstruction. But, of course, you didn’t receive said treatment.” Ed turned again and lifted up Oswald’s leg, studying the angle of his foot. 

Oswald scoffed as he peered over Ed’s shoulder from where he lay. “Are you wearing medical gloves?” 

Ed grinned. “Yes. Helps me think. Also,” he turned to look at Oswald, “You only noticed that I was wearing gloves by sight, correct?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “If you had sufficient feeling...” he tapped Oswald’s leg with his pencil, “you would’ve known that I was wearing plastic gloves through physical sensation. You feel that?” 

“Uh -“ 

“How about that,” he tapped his leg again, “or this?”

Oswald shrugged. Edward’s grin grew wider. “Sufficient nerve damage running along the common fibula and medial plantar,” he concluded. “Question is, why is it now becoming more painful...” He trailed off, consulting his notes before turning to face Oswald. “Could you rate your levels of pain on a scale from -“

“Ed,” Oswald stopped him. “Isn’t it a bit early for this?” He asked, reaching out his arms for Ed like a child as he sunk deeper into his covers. “And you’ve made my feet cold,” he complained.

“Cold? Both, or just your left?” 

“Ed -“ 

“Which one Oswald? Which one is cold?” 

“Uh, my - my left -“ 

“Ah ha! So you’re feeling a temperature difference!” Ed triumphed as he scribbled in his notes. Oswald winced at the loud exclamation. “Now, a pain rating,” he held out his notepad to Oswald. “I drew you a diagram.” 

Oswald scowled and grumpily reached out from his nest to take the pad from Ed. Despite himself, he laughed softly upon seeing the diagram. “I wouldn’t say it’s your calling,” he laughed, glancing back at Ed. “Art and design.” Ed had drawn ‘levels of pain’, in the form of ten faces with a range of expressions. He’d copied each of the categories out again under headings such as “whilst walking”, “whilst standing”, “whilst sitting”. 

“Uh, this questionnaire isn’t standardised, doctor,” he teased, “How am I supposed to differentiate between expression six and seven? That’s the same face!” 

Ed scowled. “I had two minutes to do it. I based it off the FPS-R test, it’s completely reliable.” 

“Whatever,” Oswald replied, taking Ed’s pencil as eyes scanned down the page. Edward watched him as he completed the questionnaire. “What do you plan to do anyway?” Oswald asked through a yawn. “It’s been years, Ed.”

“I’m considering a number of options,” Edward replied, eager to see Oswald’s questionnaire results. “One of which being amputation.”

Oswald stopped writing and looked at him. “You can’t be serious,” he replied. He was getting better at telling when Edward was joking, but sometimes the man was just too hard to read. 

“Hm,” Edward replied simply. “Are you done yet?” He asked, extending his hand for his notepad back. Frowning, Oswald handed it him back, burying himself back under the covers. 

“You’re not amputating my leg. Now come back to bed.”

**Author's Note:**

> As you may have guessed, I know nothing about the bones in a leg. Thank you for reading!  
> Find me on tumblr @sevondia.


End file.
